


Oil and Fire

by sabraneadaz



Category: The Bone Season - Samantha Shannon
Genre: Canon Compliant, Clairvoyance, Explicit Sexual Content, Extended Scene, F/M, First Time, Missing Scene, Non-Human Character, POV First Person, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, guildhall trap room, no spoilers for the mime order or song rising, spoilers for the bone season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:41:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23530081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabraneadaz/pseuds/sabraneadaz
Summary: “I do not want you because of your gift or as the leader of this rebellion, Paige. My desire for you is its own.”I recalled what Warden had told me about Rephaite minds; like oil and fire.(The Guildhall Trap Room scene if Nashira hadn't walked in...)
Relationships: Paige Mahoney/Warden | Arcturus Mesarthim
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Oil and Fire

**Author's Note:**

> You know what they say - if you can't find the fic you're looking for, write it yourself!
> 
> This picks up from the scene in the guildhall trap room directly before Nashira discovers them.

My questing fingers traced the latticework across Warden’s back. I was hot, still thrumming for the touch of his fingers and the embrace of his dreamscape.

Warden buried his face in my neck. If I'd ever needed more evidence of his commitment to the revolution; this was it. He was here in the Guildhall with his fingers pressed firm and bare and hot against me, and somehow his faith in my ability to lead this revolution was unshakeable. His faith had sustained this fragile trust between us.

Fear surged up inside me again at the thought of Nashira waiting for me on stage. This illusory moment was perhaps the closest I would get to heaven before death or spiritual enslavement.

My neck was growing hot and damp with Warden’s breaths against it, and as he held me clear of the crate and drew my thighs around him heat sparked up through my stomach. I pushed my hands back up around his neck, tangled my fingers in his hair, and brought him down into another kiss. Warden’s large hands were a fire against my thighs, my back, and I arched into the touch.

This – this was unlike anything I’d felt before. That guy at the bar - that was a spur of the moment choice which had left me exposed and fragile. There was no burning in my stomach, no heat between my legs.

I reached for Warden’s dreamscape and his lips, drawing them between mine and sliding my tongue against his. The groan low in Warden’s throat only stoked the fire higher. _Yes. Dont stop. Dont stop._

The back of my thighs met the crate again and Warden’s hands were on my stomach, my chest, his thumbs brushing the underside of my breasts and his wide palms firm around my sides. I gasped and chased his lips where they kissed my neck. My dress had rucked up around my waist and my thighs were bare against his hips.

We pressed into each other’s embrace and I pushed his shirt from where it hung on his shoulders, down his arms until it fell off the long slopes of his fingers. He knotted them through mine for a moment.

“Paige…” he said. “ _Paige_.” His eyes were clear and bright when they bore into mine, and I pulled his hands up to the back of my neck.

Those large fingers that had braided my hair so intricately were nimble and sure on the zip of my dress, drawing it down and smoothing the fabric away from my arms. We were playing against time, for at any moment I would be called to the stage, but for now nothing mattered except the satisfaction of this hungry thing inside us both.

The dress fell about my waist and Warden reverently fingered the pendant snug between my breasts. It had been hidden under my neckline, and at the sight of it something fierce swelled in Warden’s eyes for a moment. He dropped to his knees so he didn’t have to stoop, and the movement was so fluid. Inhuman.

“Do not rely the pendant against Nashira,” he warned, even as he encircled my waist with an arm, pressed his lips to my sternum and slid a hand between my thighs to push them apart. I knew from experience how strong the Rephaim were, and yet the way Warden held me up so easily when my precarious position on the edge of the crate should have unbalanced us both sparked the heat between my legs. I threaded my hands through Warden’s dark hair. He mouthed my breast through the thin fabric of my bra.

“That’s not why I’m wearing it.”

I didn’t expect the truth to come out, but there it was.

Warden raised his eyes to meet mine – clear, lustful, and yet with something deeper flitting behind them for a second. He reared up to meet me in a rough kiss.

“Paige,” he repeated, “I would not have chosen you for this if I didn’t believe you could do it.” His voice was low and hoarser than it had been only minutes before.

“You’ve said.”

I was impatient so I moved his hand from my inner thigh and pulled it right up against me. The heat of his fingers there was incredible, and I wondered if that hottest part of my body still felt cold to him.

My white boots knocked against his back as he pushed me back down, dragging my knickers to the side and smoothing a thick finger inside me.

I waited for the stabbing pain, but it didn’t come. Only the fierce heat of his skin against the heat of my arousal. I’d closed my eyes without conscious thought and when I opened them Warden was looming over me. His bright yellow eyes dug deep into mine.

Warden’s expression – steady, measuring, wanting – didn’t change, but he must have seen something in my face because he slid his free hand under my thigh and pressed it back. My knee settled in his elbow like a key in a lock.

For a moment the discomfort hit me again. I was exposed with my dress rucked up and pulled down, leg pressed back on a crate in a labour camp. Was this really better than the piss stained wall of an oxygen bar car park?

I grabbed Warden’s wrist and he stilled.

“You still question my motives,” he said, “I do not want you because of your gift or as the leader of this rebellion, Paige. My desire for you is its own.”

I recalled what Warden had told me about Rephaite minds; like oil and fire.

Before he could retreat I hooked my thumb in the elastic of my knickers and pushed them down my legs.

“I would not take what you’re not willing to give,” he said, but he was already leaning in to kiss me.

“I want this,” I whispered against his lips, and then snapped open his trousers with fingers far steadier than I felt.

He groaned again and I felt his teeth catch and pull on my bottom lip, and then two fingers thrust into me at once and all was fire. Fire and heat and lust and the sensation of being filled.

“Fuck,” I gasped. “We don’t have long. Come on.”

At my urging he finally, _finally_ pulled himself out from his trousers and began a slow push inside me. When he’d settled he brought his thumb to my clit and traced heady circles there. Sparks zipped up my spine and I clenched my hands in his hair. _Get on with it. Don’t stop._

Dimly I registered the bitten off sounds of my cries as he rocked his hips. With shaking hands I sought out his face and brought his hot mouth to mine to swallow the noise – it wouldn’t do to draw attention to ourselves now.

Before we even broke the first kiss I found myself held up only by Warden’s strong hands on my arse and my back as he wrapped my legs tight around him and sat back on the crate himself.

He settled even deeper this way, and to my horror my thighs quivered uncontrollably on either side of him with the pleasure of it.

Warden leaned in, pressed his forehead to mine, traced his nose across my cheek, my jaw, buried it behind my ear and inhaled the scent of my dishevelled hair.

“Reach for my dreamscape,” he whispered.

And I did.

Oil met fire in an explosion both psychic and physical, and I was shaking as our dreamscapes collided. Poppies burned into fierce flames and the blaze engulfed Warden, leaving us both burning and beading in sweat.

I dimly registered how I clenched around him, his thumb rubbing sharp against my clit again as I fell apart in his arms.

Then he had both hands spread wide over my hips. His thumbs lined the creases of my pelvis and his long fingers grasped my arse in a display of possessiveness that rocked me. His dreamscape burned all the brighter for it, and I couldn’t tear myself away.

We both moved in earnest now; the strengthened muscles of my thighs burned as I rode him and his hands grabbed and grasped at me as he lifted and pulled me back down in fast, deep slides.

I ached all over and it was ecstasy. My hands were on his shoulders, fisted in his hair, trying to reach for something to anchor myself, and Warden’s lips were wet and hot against my neck, my collarbones.

“ _Paige_ ,” Warden said, and I had never heard his voice so strained before.

I shuddered as his fingers fluttered over my shoulder, sweeping back locks of hair that had come loose from my braid.

Warden was Rephaim, far taller and larger than any human. It was intoxicating how I could hold him inside me and around me, how he filled me and carved out a space for himself in our mingled dreamscapes. I clenched down on him again to hear his throaty groan and the pleasure tightened to a sharp point in my stomach.

Before I knew it I’d found my clit with my own fingers and I was coming around him for the second time, panting and shaking and arching my back as I shook in his solid hold.

The tension was forcibly wrung out of me and I fell pliant in Warden’s hands. His skin burned my nose where I buried it in his neck.

Warden was still rocking me on his lap, but the rhythm was erratic now; thrusts short and sharp, and then large fingers dug into my hips and with his mouth turned into my hair he gasped out his release.

I leaned against him as the aftershocks overtook us both, and gently disentangled our dreamscapes. He embraced me then, and I met his mouth in a deep, leisurely kiss. Anxiety was still stirring in the pit of my stomach, but in that moment I felt safe, protected.

After a minute or so I pulled apart from him with a wince, and got down from the crate on shaking legs. Feeling lightheaded, I pulled my knickers back on and righted my dress.

Warden had tucked himself away and was fastening the buttons of his shirt. His chest was hidden away button by button, and something inside me mourned the loss of it.

I stepped towards him. Moving back to his embrace and kissing him felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Neither of us spoke a word when the kiss broke. Hot breaths against swollen mouths and noses tracing cheekbones. With gentle hands Warden turned me, swept my hair to the side, and drew up the zip of my dress.

“Your hair is no longer suitable for the stage,” he whispered, not letting go of my shoulders.

“There’s no time,” I replied, quietly.

I turned.

Warden cupped my face in his hands.

“Defeat Nashira,” he said.

I slotted my fingers through his.

“I am with you, Paige Mahoney.” 

**Author's Note:**

> warden and paige love each other and i love comments :)
> 
> you can find me on tumblr at [folieassdeux](http://folieassdeux.tumblr.com)


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